


Perchance, To Dream

by Saffroncremebrulee



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Also kinda gushy, Dreams, F/M, Gift Fic, I am the slowest writer ever, I'm sorry this took so long, Kinda Weird, love letter, super philosophical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:47:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8658538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saffroncremebrulee/pseuds/Saffroncremebrulee
Summary: Sebastian writes a love letter.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SooperChicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SooperChicken/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I do not own Black Butler. This is a piece of fanfiction for entertainment. 
> 
> This work is a gift for the lovely Sooperchicken. Thank you again for writing my request! This is not even close in terms of quality of writing, but I hope it's...um...not super awful?

My Esteemed Lady:

I dream now.

How strange you must think me, to dream when I have no need to sleep.

'Tis such a quintessentially human endeavor, this urge, this positively overwhelming urge to see the world not as it is, but as it should be. The very essence of sentience- that if we _were_ and we _are_ at this moment, then, we, perhaps, one day _could_ become and, perchance, will always remain.

I have previously dismissed dreams as nothing more than fancies of desperate delusions. Brief, pitiful, not of any utility save the illusion of a brighter future that grows dimmer by the day. How extraordinarily human to cling to hope- to _ideals_ \- when the very world itself conspires to erase all semblance to mist.

And yet, ever since falling in love with you, I find myself indulging in the very activity I previously scorned. You appeared as if from moonbeams, a fantasy gathered from a distant and mystical place. Oceans away from my young master's dear England, a land where dreamers converge.

I yearn to wish such a place with you as my guide.

This indulgence is one of the few allowed to me as a mere butler. In and of itself, a lonely and thankless position; my very self disposable to the world we inhabit. I am shackled to my master in waking, but in dreaming I belong not to him, but to _you_.

How strange I think myself now, dreaming when the very idea is antithetical to my existence. This new-found optimism is an indulgence, a wild and wondrous elixir, something I gladly drink in your presence. I shall gladly forsake the life I have now for the sweet, wondrous, delicious freedom of dreaming with you.

You are _free_ in the way so few creatures are. You care for neither titles nor riches, noble or servant. You see as I see: that humans are so very much alike in hopes as well as fears with more points of commonality than difference. Your world is one in which people are their humanity first and their social stations second; in your eyes, people are no more and no less than the most precious hopes of their soul.

You are free from the cynicism from whence I draw my strength. The limits of reality apply not to you; neither do the lessons of history. You dream unencumbered by the very darkness I would forsake to dream with you. Never have I craved the freedom I do now- this freedom to be, to feel, to love. I shall not come to you unless you are waiting- _expecting! **Hoping!**_ \- with the same anticipation threading through our veins.

For I am no ordinary butler, and _you-_ you, my Lady- _you_  ceased to be ordinary the moment you painted my dreams with yours.

I remain, as always,

Sebastian Michaelis

**Author's Note:**

> "To die, to sleep-  
> To sleep, perchance to dream- ay, there's the rub,  
> For in this sleep of death what dreams may come..."
> 
> William Shakespeare, Hamlet


End file.
